


softly spoken

by iwlytte



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Friends to Lovers, Liverpool F.C., M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23142472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwlytte/pseuds/iwlytte
Summary: “I like you.”Is all what Jordan unexpectedly mutters in his hoarse, deep voice after a long while of listening to Adam rambling endlessly when he finally decides not to go home that early. (“It’s on me,”was the magic spell.)He clears his throat.“I don’t know, I like you.”
Relationships: Jordan Henderson/Adam Lallana, hint of Virgil van Dijk/Andrew Robertson, past Danny Ings/Adam Lallana
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is [a song by Phum Viphurit!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84-NvRbtfrQ)
> 
> This is heavily inspired by Arrête avec tes mensonges by Phillipe Besson and Mắt biếc by Nguyễn Nhật Ánh.
> 
> English is not my first language and this fic is half-beta-ed, so you're welcome to go and criticise me on [tumblr](https://flickiflaka.tumblr.com/).

_Who is that weirdo?_

“It’s Hendo, or Jordan, Jordan Henderson,” Andy chimes in his thoughts. “Has just been promoted to our academy. Hot, right?”

_Not that attractive._

Adam adjusts his glasses.

_And why is he constantly staring at me?_

Adam glances at his younger mate and shakes his head. “Not my type,” he sing-songs as he closes his locker.

“Not mine, either,” Andy pouts. “Heard some scandals about him before.”

Adam does not wish for more information. He shrugs as they move on to their first class when the bell rings.

They head to their usual desk at the far left row at the back of the small classroom. It was Andy who grabbed the the seats and quoted “Probably the only comfortable seat for us lefties in this room. Anyway, the view’s nice right?” on their Day One, as he side-looked at a tall, tanned guy sitting on their right two rows ahead who was flipping the pages all along. Anyway, when the Maths teacher, Mr. Gerrard slowly enters the classroom that _strange-looking-what-was-his-name-again?_ guy enters the class as he nods at the professor and moves straight to his “attempted spot” - the only free seat left in the room aka the seat next to Adam, just like all the cliché rom-com movies. The guy sits straight down and puts all his stationeries out organizedly and does not look like he’s going to say any word or even spare a glance at neither Adam nor Andy for the whole lecture. When the professor starts speaking and moves onto the lesson, Adam feels constant nudges to his right arm. _Eh? What’s with it this time?_ He prepares his best wry face as he turns to Jordan and was about to spit out his most venomous _What the fuck?_ hiss but then, he sees the reason why: the guy is left-handed, just like Andy. And he sits on the right side of Adam which means that not only is he gonna have to work in this such confined space with his leftie best mate on one side but also in the other side with the, well, new student - Jordan is left-handed. He tries his best not to complain neither in his head nor out loud but _fuck it!_ Jordan’s elbow keeps on _nudging_ and _nudging_ Adam’s and he can't concentrate! He tries to get Jordan’s attention just to throw him his deadliest glare but instead, Adam accidentally peeks at the guy’s - _Jordan’s_ workplace and he found him hastily scribbling something on his kraft paper notes. He seems to not be concentrating on the lesson at all. What is it he writing, or doodling? _Are those, calligraphy or poetry?_ he wonders. His train of thought gets lost as he feels _nudges (again?!)_ on his other elbow.

“What?” he snaps.

Andy does not have the dare to make eye contact with him but instead, he raises his eyebrows up, signalling him to look up. 

“Mr. Lallana. What’s the answer for this question here?”

 _Shit_. He scratches his jaw and kicks Andy’s foot to ask for help. 

He gets nothing in reply because deep down, he knows that Andy could not help him at all since his maths was the worst worst. Adam's not any better either. The two of them chose this subject just to be near their crushes: Danny (well, not anymore) and that tall tanned guy who always has his hair tied to a bun (Adam always says that it's such a shame that for the whole 5 weeks of pinning on the guy but Andy did not figure out his name yet. But Andy retorts back, “REAL LOVE TAKES TIME BITCH.” every time to Adam's face.) Anyway, he is seconds away from apologise for his lack of attention to the professor but he feels a sudden kick from his right side. Jordan is gesturing at his note with his eyes and when he succeeds in catching Adam's attention, he turns away.

“-17,” he says with his relief sigh. He finally looks up at the professor and puts on his most charming smile.

“Incorrect,” Mr. Gerrard pushes his glasses up. “It’s 26. Sit down, Lallana.”

_Oh._

_Right._

Adam gives an apologetic smile and he sits down. He cannot help himself but straightaway rolls his eyes at Jordan, who now looks pretty damn occupied with the numbers and XYZs on the board. 

Adam lets out a long heavy sigh. He straightens up and focus on the lesson.

\------------

Days later, on that particular morning, Adam is surprisingly late.

He takes a look at his watch. _47 minutes._ He misses the first class. 

He strides across the school's empty yard, aiming for the seat beside the library's out of tune piano. It was his personal reading spot in middle school but since his bad break up with Danny as he moved to the city, he'd never gone there no more. Anyway, as he makes his way across the hall and is about to head for the stairs, he senses a smell. A bad, offensive one. Cigarette? He immediately concludes that there's someone there. _Ah, left-handed guy? What is his name again? Jordan?_ Adam is terrible at remembering names and faces. He’s about to step back for the sports hall instead but, (of course) the other guy sees him.

“Hey,” he starts. His heel twists and grinds something that seems to be a cigarette to dust. _So he really smokes? Here?_

“Hey,” Adam manages. “What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be-”

“Wanna go to the cafe?” Jordan cuts his words. “You’re probably free after school, aren't you?”

Adam frowns. It takes a moment for him to process. Is he talking about the cafeteria or a real cafe? Also, the closest cafe is about 4 miles from the nearest bus stop and Adam himself has never been to the place. He has never leave this town, except for that one occasion he went to the airport in the city to say goodbye to Danny who was going to head to the city for the trade school. Since then, he has never stepped out of this town. This is home. Where else to go?

Then he snaps out of the moment. Jordan is still waiting for his answer. 

“Sounds great.” 

“See you at the school gates then.”

“Yea that would probably wo-”

“Bye,” he sits up, flicks off the dust on his trousers.

“Right, bye.”

And Jordan just goes. In a glance. He didn't even ask Adam his name. _Or did he know it?,_ Adam wonders, but pushes out the thought at once. But why is everything seems so offhanded? Why did he even accept the date? _Wait, is it a date?_ _Heck_. Jordan is half a stranger (Considering the fact that he sits next to him for almost 3 days.)! He has never had a real talk with him. Ever.

But now, Adam has just accepted (by a second) going on to a date with Jordan.

He has a million, million questions blowing up his mind right now but he gets pulled out of his thoughts by the loud ring of the bell as the students crowd the hall sooner after that.

It does not take him long to find Andy sitting on the grass field behind the sports hall. He seems really into what's he is reading right now while taking small bites of his all time favourite Scottish shortbread in the other hand. Yet when Adam approaches his spot with tiny steps slowly, Andy notices right at the moment. He looks up from his book.

“Gosh, Ads! Where on Earth have you been all this morning?” the genuine look of worry is easily seen on Andy’s face and it _worries_ Adam. “Jeez.”

“Erm, I had quite an accident and yeah, I was late.”

“Unbelievable that,” Andy remarks. “Sit,” he pats at the spot next to him. The anxious look on his face slowly fades away as he chews the dunked biscuit.

“Hey man, it was real weird this moment when-”

“Oh did some dudes hit you up?” Andy chimes in. Classic Andy, indeed. “Was it Adrian? Or Jamie? Or-”

“Listen-”

“Oh or is it Hendo?” Andy’s face brightens up with his shiny eyes and usual authentic Andy Robertson smirk. “He’s been checking on you lately I swear. And remember that time in Mr. Stevie’s class when-” he gestures the _you know what I mean_ hand, not daring enough to actually blurt out the whole thing.

Adam throws his deadly _shut the fuck up_ glare at his chirpy sun-shiny friend. He sighs in admission.

“Yeah.”

“Ho ho ho holy shit,” Andy can't hold back his laugh. “You were late, or in other words, you broke the rules of our betting game, remember? to Jordan fucking Henderson.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“-Yet.”

“He's barely a friend to me now, Andy. It’s just a coffee. I won't end up on his bed so,” he shrugs.

Adam rolls his eyes as Andy starts to control his laugh and turns it into a snort. That stupid game they pull up every Christmas: whoever has a boyfriend first loses and whoever loses, has to dress up as whatever the other person wishes on Halloween. That year when Adam dated Danny, he had to dress up as an eggplant (which is utterly stupid). It was the only time the bet works since Adam and Andy are not that popular at school. Of course, they had some crushes, but they were just _too busy on their researches and projects_ (or in other words, they were just somehow, get terrified by the idea of actually being in a real romantic relationship with someone that they’re really sure they’ll get disappointed afterwards one way or another and also, they prefer to be on oneself so much more because of the comfortability) so yeah, they never literally hanging out with anyone, except for that one time of Danny Ings.

“Why?” Adam wonders out loud. “Why me?”

“Ask him, on your date-”

“It’s a coffee. Just. A. Coffee.”

“Yeah yeah on your coffee date,” he air quotes. “Ask him.” Andy suggests while continuing munching on his biscuit.

Adam groans out loud. Heck, why did he even say yes to that _coffee appointment_?

\------------

As Adam finally exits his last class, he already finds Jordan waiting for him right at the exit door. _How sweet_ , he thought, with a bit of sarcasm, as he smiles to the guy.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Jordan’s reply sounds throaty. He himself realises it right away, he clears his throat and let out a clearer, “Hey.”

“Umm so, were you, um, waiting for me?” Adam scratches his head. “Sorry about that, I had to rev—”

“Shhh— That’s fine,” he cuts off. _Why does he always do that? Excuse me? That’s pretty rude, Mister._ “Let’s go then.”

_Why is he so offhanded what the fuck—_

_And why am I letting him in that easily?_

“Shall we?” Jordan asks again when Adam looks like he’s been mooning around somewhere else. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Adam wipes out of his thought. “Yes, totally.”

“Yeah,” Jordan says as they walk through the half empty hallway.

“Are we, well, walk or we’ll take the bus?” Adam asks. “It’s pretty far fro—”

“Don’t worry,” Jordan pauses. “Um, I got my bike.”

Adam follows Jordan and he really wants to believe that he is humming some random melodies. He wonders what happened during the day that brighten up the guy’s mood like this when he recalls the image of Jordan sitting on the stairs, alone, smoking, distressed. As they reach the school gates, Adam realises that the bike was indeed, not a bike, it’s a motorbike. _Heck_ , there are like, just 15 people that ride motorbikes in this town and most of them are probably at their middle ages. _This guy’s interesting,_ Adam thinks as Jordan hands him a helmet. While Adam seems to be struggling with the helmet, he has already had his gloves and sunglasses on and with them on, along with the all black school uniform, Jordan looks like a real gangster. _WHAT— wait, what if he's one? Is he going to kidnap me and sell me to—_ _no wait, if Jordan’s a real gangster, he’d definitely be the badass one, the sexy, fierce one-_ Adam’s (wrecked) train of thought gets lost on tracks as Jordan reaches his left hand, or rather, the helmet’s fasteners to tighten them, making sure that Adam’s jaw skin does not stuck into it. As they stand this close, Adam can clearly see that Jordan is _way_ taller than him and his eyes, they are in a very pure blue shade and under the afternoon sun, they seem to have a light shade of green in there. He may get lost in them if Jordan did not break the unconscious staring contest to hop on the vehicle and starts revving the engine. Adam gets on the bike, tries to secure himself by holding the rear fairing but, there isn’t any and Adam is sitting way too high up from the ground so, he has to stretch his arms all wide to reach Jordan’s hips. 

_This is awkward._

_But it’s kinda nice, though,_ Adam admits in his thought as they stay silent within the ride, only slight autumn breezes and the vrooms of the engine are audible. Watching yellow-ish trees passing by while hugging Jordan is oddly comfortable. It feels _sooooooo_ warm that Adam almost falls asleep right on the ride if Jordan did not pull the bike in to a sudden halt. 

_They’re there._

It was a cosy looking brick-walled cafe. It’s much closer than Adam has remembered or this is a different one? And as the two of them enter the shop, everyone looks over their shoulders and greets to them with all smiles. _Perhaps Jordan has been here before, hasn’t he?_ He half hugs one strong local accented old man sitting right at the bar while patting on a head of a little boy holding a colourful lollipop with his other hand. But Jordan stops short with all those greetings with a big grin as everyone goes back to their own business. He leads Adam to a window-viewed bar where they can look at the vacant bus stop while having their coffee. 

“What do you want?” he asks, after handing him the pamphlet. 

“I’ll go with whatever you want.”

Jordan says nothing as he goes back to the cashier. “As usual,” he tells the guy. He goes back with two floral coffee mugs. 

“Hot chocolate,” Adam guesses, as he inhales the strong scented cocoa flavour into his nostrils, despite the fact that the aroma of this place is so occupied with a strong smell of roasted coffee. He looks fondly at the whip of slightly burnt marshmallow puff. “Looks good.”

“Yepp. And it tastes really nice. Probably the best one here,” Jordan replies. “Wayyyy better than the cafeteria ones.”

“Here or back in your old place?”

“Haven’t tried it here yet but I once tried drinking the one at my old school,” Jordan smacks his tongue and lightly shakes his head. “It was overly sweet, and tasted nothing like hot chocolate at all.”

“Yeah? You should try it at our school sometimes, especially on Monday and Wednesday mornings, that’s when Virgil takes on control of the place. He’s the only one who’s capable enough to handle the job properly,” Adam pauses to bring the cup up to his nose and inhales the scent again. “You can join us if you want.” He sips on the drink.

“Us?” Jordan questions, but on his inquiring face then pops up a satisfying grin when he sees Adam’s eyes lighten up with joy. “Good stuff, yeah?”

“Hmmm,” he licks his lips. “Soooooooo goood.”

“Glad you like it,” Jordan says, as if he was the one who made them the drinks. “Haribo?”

“Yeah? What's that?”

Jordan pulls out a pack of multi coloured gummy bears, alongside with his cigarette box and lighter, which he tucks back in his pocket immediately. He gives himself and Adam the candies as he opens the pack.

“Cheers?” Jordan suggests with his smile.

“Cheers,” Adam chuckles. This cheering thing seems odd. Later on, he adds, “People only cheer for beer glasses clinking.”

“Yeah but, when sharing foods with ones, I’d like to cheer before eating them,” Jordan explains. “This is good, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Adam replies. “But why “clinking” gummy bears?”

Jordan stops short with his smiling at lightly frowns at him. Seconds later, he tips his head back as his laughter bursts out. “Yeah. But like, I dunno. Sort of an old habit, I guess?”

He chuckles and it makes Adam giggles all along. He suddenly feels like, he likes looking at the guy. He continues to stare and explore Jordan’s face and figures out to himself that, even though he really did think that Jordan was not that close to his definition of attractive but now, he doubtlessly thinks that Jordan’s clear, gleamy blue eyes were so animated and they probably were those things which make Jordan’s features seem somewhat softer and kinder, friendlier when staring at close range. But Adam is concerned, because he notices the dark eye bags under Jordan’s gorgeous ocean eyes. Now he concludes with himself that Jordan has been somehow restless these days and it is his job to cheer the guy up. 

But it is Jordan who breaks the silence first.

“Um-” Jordan starts. He breaks his eye contact with Adam to gaze seemingly at the window. “Hey, it sounds weird but can I apologise about this?”

_What is he talking about?_

“This sudden thing between us,” Jordan reads his thoughts, hands gesturing the air between them two. 

_It’s called friendship you fuck tard._

“Yeah?” Adam tries to maintain eye contact with the guy. “No no, not all all. Don’t be,” he does not know why but his words spurts out stumblingly. 

He swallows hard, takes a deep inhale and says:

“No it is completely alright, mate,” Adam laughs it off. “Why do you have to apologise for this?” he says as he mimics the hand gestures.

Jordan scratches his stubble continuously and Adam instantly understands, thanks to those days that he helps Danny revising his Psychology exams. 

“Hey, look. Let’s get outta here, eh?” he suggests. “Let’s go somewhere else, if you feel-”

“I want to be your friend Ads,” Jordan says in a flash and a totally serious tone, judging by the stern look on his face.

“Okay,” Adam replies in his most natural voice. 

Jordan finally lets out of his emptied cup and sits back to the couch, then he acknowledges that it is not a couch but a stool and he almost falls over, just when he does not because Adam grips his hand.

“Oi, careful mate,” he says. “So, wanna go somewhere else?”

Jordan sighs pleasingly, “No I’m actually alright. Do you?”

“Nope. I’m fine,” he grins. What he actually wanted to say was I’m absolutely comfortable here with you and it’s weird I don’t know why stop looking at me like that.

“Do you want to stay a bit later? They sell drinks here after eight.”

“Jordan,” he looks at him in disbelief. “Today is Wednesday.”

“Wednesday is the new Friday,” he says with a straight face.

“Oh come on, no I can’t,” Adam shakes his head furiously. He adjusts his voice so that he sounds convincing, “I was late this morning and I swore with myself that it will never happen ever again this semester.”

Adam puts on his best “duh” face as Jordan’s eyes try to avoid it.

“So you really take school seriously, don’t you?” he finally says.

“Yes, I want a degree and well, go and study in a larger city?”

“Why?”

“This place is too small, I don’t wanna-”

“But,” Jordan looks like he’s trying to find a suitable word to express his feels. “This place here, it’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Adam says. “But it’s too small, Jor-”

“The people are lovely, the sceneries are… marvelous,” he says abruptly, eyes filled with incredulousness.

“But no one really stays here. People leaves this place on and on to seek opportunities for-”

“I guess,” Jordan forces out and adds on afterwards, “But not me.”

“Why?”

He considers before finally answering, “My dad owns a field here, a big one. I’ll have to, well, inherit it.”

Adam’s mouth forms a round “O”. So that’s why.

“Wanna go there?” Jordan suggests. “You can read there.” He looks up from Adam’s closed leather-bound book on the table. He scans the cover looking for the title, _Eugene Onegin_ it is.

Adam pushes his glasses up. He’s not that nerdy. He does not consider himself as a bookworm either. “Yeah,” he says. “Sounds nice.”

“Saturday?”

“Saturday.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i really am sorry this takes too long and also, the flow of the story is too elongated as well. it’ll probably be a slow burn. like, not really that slow but it’s slow, with fluff. 
> 
> like, idk, really. this was meant to be full of s m u t but somehow, it takes its turn and yeah, here is it!
> 
> thanks to Mia, MK and GN for helping me out with this :’) ily all

\------------

ss2 like, really

“I like you.”

Is all what Jordan unexpectedly mutters in his hoarse, deep voice after a long while of listening to Adam rambling endlessly when he finally decides not to go home that early. ( _“It’s on me,”_ was the magic spell.)

He clears his throat.

“I don’t know, I like you.”

An indescribable feeling hits Adam hard, _isn’t this too sudden?_ He then chooses to stay silent and give him the chance to speak more. Jordan retreats back to his seat, leans in the sun flaring through the windowsill, as if he has understood the signs. 

He crosses his arms.

“I mean, I’ve been watching you for quite some time. I’m not a perv or anything but it’s just… I noticed you, Adam.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called him by his name. Adam believes what he was saying is the truth as he desperately hopes that it is not one of his wasted times at those parties. He tries to think of something to say, but the more he watches Jordan and how he is undeniably breaking out in cold sweat, the easier he takes this confession, he intended. With his best efforts, he tries to hide the smile creeping up on his face when Jordan constantly fidgets his cigarette package, eyes looking down and elsewhere, unable to meet Adam’s. But when they do, all Adam can see is a sparkling blue, non-gentle, blazing flame. That’s when he knows what he’s going to say.

“Listen,” he starts. “I’m sorry…”

“Shit, no I’m s-”

“No,” Adam says, using his most calming voice. “Listen.”

Jordan stares at him incredulously, with all wide eyes.

“We still have time to figure it out,” he starts. Judging by the redness on Jordan’s cheek starting to fade away, he laughs lightly, trying to brighten the atmosphere up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jordan is still staring as if he doesn’t understand what Adam has just said.

“I know a place,” he says, as he grabs the hem of Jordan’s shirt. Jordan makes out a small protesting sound but still, he nods as he swiftly takes the jacket he hung on the chair earlier and places the cash underneath the ashtray. He responds to the _“_ Goodbye _”_ from the cashier guy from earlier, who’s probably ends his shift as he has taken his apron out and by now sits with the older men playing chess, with a pat on his shoulder.

Outside, the sun is on its way to set, painting the horizon a pristine yellow and purple tint. The glow of the sinking sun casts its afternoon nuances on their faces. Adam gazes at Jordan first, after a while of their eyes struggling to find ways to avoid each other. The day’s final gleams reflect on Jordan’s face a warm orange shade, just like the colours of those ripe and succulent fruits his father and him used to go picking at that cottage in the valley years ago. Jordan eventually returns his glance. His eyes under the afternoon sun are in a fascinating, bright azure shade and Adam can’t take his eyes off them.

Jordan begins, as he flops into the nearby bench next to the vacant bus stop:

“Hey, sorry for that,” he scratches his hair. He looks all perplexed and puzzled, even though it seems like he used the past silent moment to think what to say. “Can’t believe I was that dumb.”

And he says another verse, something sounds like _“Why the fuck did I even say that?”_ , but the coffee shop is getting more crowded, even from outside, as they start playing live jazz. He presumes, as Jordan said before: From evening and so on, this place is a pub, not a coffee shop anymore.

“That’s fine, I get it,” he reassures him, even though he definitely does not understand what shit is going on in Jordan's mind. 

He sits next to Jordan, extends his hand, trying to take hold of Jordan’s but he instantly withdraws, as if he has an electric shock or touches a flame. A huge, alarming _Don't_ look is visible in his eyes.

Jordan gives a reluctant smile as he stands up, flicks the dust on his buttocks off as he stands up. He takes a quick, examining look around, then extends his hand so that Adam can hold it as he pulls him up. 

As they walk back to where Jordan parked his motorcycle, he asks: “Where to?” he gives Adam the helmet. 

This time, he doesn’t let Jordan do it but he’ll wear it himself. The helmet is oversized, so he just needs to fasten it first then he can slip in easily. Jordan glances an amusing look at him, as if he wants to tease, _“Now who’s dumb?”_

“The lake. Bet it’s stunning there now.”

“Right.”

As they set off, Adam makes up his mind: he will not to hug him like before (because if he did so, Jordan would definitely react as violently as the moment before and they would have a motorbike accident and Adam surely does not want that) but instead, he holds the grip behind the vehicle by his fingers. 

The wind is blowing so cooly, he just wants to doff his helmet and let it breezes through his hair. But then Jordan stops abruptly (bet he has this odd habit of not slowing down before stopping his bike, ain’t he?) and he recognises, they’re _not_ there yet. 

“Um, my bike ran out of fuel.”

They are not on the way back to school yet. And the lake, it is indeed further than that. Now the sky is getting darker and the evening is drawing in. The more it draws in, the more sultry the air is and both of them are still wearing the same, full set of uniform from the morning. 

“Let’s just walk, then. There's a grocery store near mine's.”

Jordan agrees (well, he does not have any other choices anyway) so whilst waiting for Adam to get off the vehicle, he takes off his helmet and fixes his hair hurriedly. They take their jackets out and leave it on the motorbike because they cannot stand the sweltering evening heat anymore.

Well, at least they have more time spending with one another’s company, as well as enjoying the last blueish purple fleeces of dusk all the way behind the hills.

They arrive at Adam’s home before the moon reaches its peak. It’s a wee, cosy bakery and it smells so pleasant even from outside. _The day’s last batch,_ he thinks, as he realises they are not as late as he thought.

“You can purchase for fuel there, at the Robertson’s,” Adam says, taking his jacket before entering his house. “Oh and, wait for me.”

Adam gets in and grabs his favourite chocolate eclair before heading out again and finds Jordan talking to a guy. A guy is _that_ tall, tanned guy Andy has been crazy about. 

“Hey,” he greets. “I’m Adam.”

“Virgil,” the guy smiles and he gets why Andy is fully head over heels over this guy (as Andy once described as, “The goDdaMn smirk that screams I’ll top you”).

When Virgil retreats back inside to help with the store and they finally have their own space for themselves, Adam hands him the eclair and tells him to lean down. He covers the space with his hand as he mutters, “Thanks for today.” and plants on his cheek a quick kiss.

“Saturday, right?” he asks and his voice breaks into a giggle when Jordan starts blushing like a rose.

He puts his hand on Adam’s hair and rubs it softly.

“Yes.”

Jordan’s house from far away is exactly like what Adam has remembered: an old looking cottage with its brick red roof, blasting underneath the sun and surrounded by the evergreen of plants curling around the fences.

Jordan is waiting for him at the beginning of the road. He’s leaning against a streetlight, puffing out a thin cloud of smoke. When he sees Adam finding his way towards him, he straightway throws the cigarette on the ground and crushes it. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Jordan turns to look elsewhere as Adam looks down to check the time out.

“Sorry, I’m early.”

Jordan remains silent and Adam can clearly see a confusing look on him as he swallows.

He was more-than-10-minutes early.

He doesn't need to find the way.

He knows the way.

He _still_ remembers the way.

_The way_ is a long, steep road which curves alongside the hill. It is only wide enough for a small jeep to fit. Jordan goes first, he comes behind. After turning a corner, the trees on the roadside become so sparse that they can see the whole farm standing there. In between the viridescent vast, green fields of grass are Henderson’s cottages - all old fashioned and red, high in contrast. When he comes closer, he can see that the berries season has not yet fully arrived, the fruits did not bloom, yet it is starting to.

But his entire attention does not just notice just that.

He busies staring at the figure walking without turning his head once. What Jordan is wearing makes him look more laid back and less tense and the all black school uniform: a plain white T-shirt, baggy jeans and dirty boots. Under the beautiful sheaf of sunlight, his hair looks vividly golden. His uneasy gait makes him look rigid from shoulders to his knuckles - all strong and solid, revealing his thick, blue veins.

He intends - or, more like he wants to get a hold of Jordan’s hand, or just put his arm around his shoulders but remembering the last time when he tried to show the act of intimacy and friendliness and how he rejected it, he figures out that Jordan is not a big fan of those. So, he decides against it.

Maybe he should wait for a moment, just like what he has told Jordan to be.

After a while of thinking, they arrive at his house. It seems quiet. The only audible sound is the cricket’s. Later, he finds out that his mum and dad took themselves uptown until evening, and his sister is still studying in the city.

“I have a sister, too,” he says. “‘s being annoying most of the time.”

Then, they agreed on playing football in the backyard, under sunbeams filtering through the leaves of trees after Jordan found the ball sitting in the middle of the yard.

“You play?”

“Yeah,” Jordan passes the ball to him. “How long have you?”

“Since ever. I’ve played days and nights in secondary school,” he says. His foot takes his pass easy and passes it right back skillfully. “You?”

“Same,” he replied, as he kicked the ball towards the “goal” - the washing line, after receiving Adam’s pass. “Both-footed?”

“You can say that,” he says, as he watches the ball fly with strong force and speed. “Your shooting’s quite nice, do you want to join our club?”

“Yeah? There’s one?” he runs to the other side of the yard to pick the ball up. “I couldn’t find it on the dashboard.”

“It’s not the school’s. Just a group of mates and the principal, we play 5-a-side on Sunday mornings.”

“Klopp?” 

“Klopp. He’s down to earth. I’m sure you’ll love him.”

“Do you play other sports?”

“Used to do boxing, but I quitted a year ago,” he says. “Broke my arm.”

He taps on the spot on his left arm. It does not hurt but still, it leaves a bloody ugly scar. 

“I wanted to do boxing, back in the city where they have those gyms. But then I chose photography.”

“Photography? That is amazing,” he says. “I’ve always wanted to try.”

“I even got hired for a while but then I decided to leave the job to Trent - another incredibly talented young photographer, when I heard that I have to soon move back here to help with the farm.”

As they continue to talk and talk and find out more about each other, it starts to turn into a series of questions and answers when they decide to have a break under the shade of the apple tree.

“It’s such a scorching day, innit?”, he bites his lower lip, after peering at Jordan’s now _soaking wet_ white T-shirt. “Do you have any discs at home?”

Jordan breaks into a smile, as if Adam has been on the same train of thought running through his mind, but instead, he only replies: “Sure.”

And, of course, yes, here comes the inevitable one and Adam won’t let the change slip by when it comes to this stupid question game. 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

“I have,” he replies without looking at him. He is busy searching for the key for his house. “Once.”

“Same.”

“Only once?” Jordan inquires, surprisedly. He inserts the key into the lock and has some trouble twisting it open.

“Yeah, since I spend the whole fucking time getting wasted with Andy,” he shrugged, even though Jordan’s not looking at him. “Some even think we’re in love.”

They both snort at the same time. Jordan turns around and is about to ask him but he interrupts.

“My turn. Why do you like me?” he questions, fast and unflinchingly as if it’s not an afterthought but something he has learned by heart.

Jordan returns to the door and opens it with force, ignoring the question.

“Why?” Adam repeats with his _sweeter-than-sugarcane_ voice (which Jordan, in fact, finds adorable _and_ coquettish) as he enters the room. “Whyyyy?”

The door slam shuts behind him. After hearing Jordan mumbling something like _Oi, shut up, won’t ya?_ with a grimacing face, he feels like he is being pushed to the wall, face grabbed in strong hands and warm lips _nearly_ against his.

Jordan pauses when their lips are just barely touching. He looks into Adam’s eyes but all he can see is his own reflection because of those gOdDamN glasses. 

He murmured: “May I?” then carefully takes them out when he sees Adam nodding. He folds and hangs them on the collar of his shirt. And even with a slightly blurry sight, Jordan’s eyes are undeniably reflecting eagerness. He searches for Adam’s permission just as he holds the gaze, then he compresses his lips before slowly close up the space between them. With his lips. With his lips on Adam’s.

Adam freezes, can’t decide how to react appropriately but his brain automatically analyses Jordan’s lips’ force applying to his and makes an irrelevant conclusion: Jordan’s lips are really soft, really.

He tries, he waits, he prays that the thoughts of regretting, of wanting to separate his lips from the kiss, of hating the kiss itself because it’s wrong, it comes too soon, too early, that he is not yet prepared for it at all but fuck no, Jordan’s lips are so fucking soft and he swears he does not like this at all. At all. 

_Unless..._

Adam finds his breath again. He closes his eyes, tries tilting his head to a side, leans in the kiss. No drawing back this time, he thinks. Then he thinks about how he had accepted the coffee date so easily, about how he had trusted him so easily, about how he falls in love so easily.

But then he stops thinking, really because for an instant, Jordan’s lips continue to go further and deeper that Adam’s lips get parted. The tongues start working when both of them find the same pace.

There are tongues and teeth colliding, yes, but Jordan is still going all slow and caring, even after sensing Adam’s approval. He no longer uses strong forces to push him to the wall. Instead, he is holding him, embracing him while grasping his chin. And about Adam, he does not know what to do with his hands so he decides to splay a hand over his chest and to leave one on his blonde, sandy hair, which feels just as soft as it looks, then slides it on to the back of his neck.

They stand there, kissing each other non-stop, rhythmically, not slow, not fast, just, rhythmically.

… Until Jordan catches a deep, sudden breath, which makes Adam surprised and opens his eyes. Their eyes - they catch each other gleam again. One more time, he gets the chance to fall into the depth of Jordan’s eyes, fall into that warm far blue, the blue of the skies on mellow days in autumn with little to no clouds and a lot of sun. One more time, he gets to stare deep into his eyes, watching his pupils dilate. Even just for a moment.

Jordan parts his lips from Adam’s. Now, his lips are bloody red, incredulously wet (he’s quite sure his are pretty much the same too), face turns from a peachy hint to a scarlet shade, bright red. Adam also feels like his face is heating up.

_Oh my._

“I- I’m sorry,” he says, with a voice that sounds like it almost got lost in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Jordan looks as if he’s about to run away and ghost Adam for the next three weeks.

“Hey, hey, don’t.”

_Dumbass._

“I thought of this, we can try,” he says, after a short time, to wait for Jordan to make himself calm, so as to slow his heartbeat down, or else, he afraid, it would just burst out of his chest. “And I quite like you, too.”

Adam swears that he can see Jordan swallowing his gulp in that moment. But, afterwards, he remains silent as he turns around, avoiding him, again. However, Jordan still can not hide the redness creeping up his neck, then up to the tips of his pixie ears.

He opens another door which leads to a hallway with a staircase at its end and a path to his living room. It looks cosy with floral wallpapers.

It turns out that Jordan owns quite a number of discs with a wide range of categories - from Chinese TV shows to detective movies. Jordan likes movies, just like his sister. He loves going to the theatre, even if he has to go there on his own. In the city, his sister and him used to have the habit of going to the disc shops, staring at those endless possibilities to choose from. But today, Adam and Jordan choose to watch a romantic French movie after a moment of considering.

They choose not to sit on the sofa but instead, sit plump on the floor, and keep distance. They eat the biscuits that Adam brings along and drink some fresh beer. About the movie - it is not so interesting - just the original boring cliche motif: a man spiraling into tragedy for a woman whom he loves obsessively. Half way through it, both Adam and Jordan give up. They still leave the track working but they only focus on one another’s company (Adam bets that if Andy was there, he’d definitely criticise them for “not knowing how to taste great arts.” with a mocking look.) and continue to talk aimlessly.

The movie suddenly plays some music - a catchy, romantic French tune. It is a part in the movie where the girl was singing on stage in a cinema. While his blood is still heating up in his veins, Adam gets a hold of Jordan’s hand, pulls him up, body swinging to the melody. They burst into a wholesome laughter, dulling the music in the background. 

Jordan lets his hands rest on Adam’s hips.

“How many,” he asks, breaking their eye contact to check out those empty beer cans laying on the floor. “-did you have?”

“Two,” he smiles. “And a half.”

Jordan retreats his hands back as soon as the music stops, his face feels like burning. 

But Adam was still humming out a melody and his hands refused from leaving Jordan’s sides. His eyes are still closing.

“Sorry but when I’m drunk, I usually fall asleep.”

“You are not sleeping,” Jordan let out a small giggle. He uses that moment to analyse all those red dots more and more creeping up on his face. 

“But if I don’t, I’ll do some sort of crazy things that I’ll regret doing soon afterwards.”

“What _sOrT_ of -”

He crashes his lips into Jordan’s and gets to taste all the leftover sweetness of the beer and those biscuits. Their kiss is halted for a millisecond, then comes right back fervently and lustfully with the aggression of the tongues. He can feel a minty aftertaste on Jordan’s tongue - perhaps he chewed some peppermint flavoured sweets to drown the cigarette smell out. 

They stand there, kissing each other with their eyes shut, underneath the longing yellow rays radiate through the window for a long time. When they finally part to take a breath, Adam feels like his face is turning even redder than Jordan’s. _Jordan, my god._ Jordan’s glorious perfectly-gelled hair is dishevelled. Jordan’s lips are vermillion and swollen, but it flashes a grin.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  __  
>  **   
>  _By what means do you elucidate love?_
> 
> _It makes no sense; just in an afternoon_
> 
> _It seizes our souls by light sun above,_
> 
> _By low, puffy clouds and winds fading soon._
> 
> *
> 
> That is a really awful translation of mine for [this poem](https://www.thivien.net/Xu%C3%A2n-Di%E1%BB%87u/V%C3%AC-sao/poem-W3i8No9RQTltEyAqgt6qKA).
> 
> The movie they watched was definitely “Cherchez l'idole” and that song was probably ["La plus belle pour aller danser"](https://youtu.be/XSy-v_Y9K_0) by Sylvie Vartan!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments or just anything are really welcomed!! 
> 
> I’ll try to update soon ;0; (@myself pls pls pls)


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